


What's in a Name?

by Guinevere137



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Does an argument count as angst, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guinevere137/pseuds/Guinevere137
Summary: A small scene in the post-canon life of everyone's favorite human/Cardassian couple.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	What's in a Name?

If there was one thing he’d learned from over seven years on a Federation-controlled space station, it was that humans were notoriously bad at naming things. They were horribly uninventive creatures, having named several starships “Enterprise,” and multiple space stations “Deep Space Whatever number came next.” Like their fashion tastes, a human’s ability to come up with a decent name for whatever needed naming was limited—and apparently the little ability they did possess was pretty much in the negative. 

“New York,” was a stellar example of human idiocy. As was the Sahara Desert, which apparently translated to, “Desert Desert.” And what they name a massive lake filled with salt? Why, Salt Lake, of course! 

No. Despite being one of the most powerful species in the Federation, humans lacked even the most basic of naming skills. 

And, apparently, this inability to name things stretched to their own offspring.

“For the last time, dear, we simply cannot name our child ‘Everett!’” Garak rarely found reasons to be visibly upset, especially with Julian, but if he had to hear the suggestion one more time, he would personally fly a shuttle off of the planet and throw his husband out the back of it—without a space suit. 

Julian harrumphed, “I don’t see what’s wrong with it. It’s a perfectly good name.”

“Oh, sure,” Garak huffed sarcastically, “Because a name that is commonly used as a surname on Earth is a good name for our son!”

Julian rolled his eyes, “It’s a cute name! Besides, plenty of names are both surnames and first names!” Julian was getting petulant now; Garak hadn’t seen him stomp like that in years. “Anyway, naming a child should not be about who else had the name! It’s about whether the name sounds good! If the parents like it!”

And with that, Julian had him backed into a corner. He could no longer feign ignorance on modern human naming practices, because Julian had just told him the truth: often times, there were no real practices involved. No longer could Garak make up excuses for refusing the name. He could not say it was because it was human, because that would only open a much larger argument. And he could not say that it was because of some distant political figure from centuries past. (After all, Everett Dirksen of the twentieth century wasn’t too terrible, if what little Garak knew of Earth history was to be believed). The fact of the matter was, the name Everett Bashir-Garak simply didn’t sound good to him. 

“I don’t like the name,” Garak sniffed eventually. And then, just to piss Julian off a little bit more, “And last I checked I am one of the parents in question.” 

Julian sighed dramatically, “Why don’t you like it? It’s a perfectly good name.” Apparently, at some point over the years, Julian had learned to ignore some of his husband’s snide remarks. Julian wandered over to the sofa, and Garak knew what was coming next. Peace-making. The least enjoyable part of any argument. Sure enough, the doctor sat down and patted the cushion beside him. Garak begrudgingly joined him. 

Almost immediately, he had a warm little space heater draped over him as Julian leaned on his shoulder and took his hand. Idly, Garak wondered if their son would be as warm and clingy as Julian. He sort of hoped so. 

“C’mon…out with it. What’s wrong with Everett?” Julian’s voice was low, there was no reason for it to be very loud, and Garak never remembered peace making being this pleasant in past arguments. Was Julian manipulating him, or was Garak getting soft? Was it both?

“It doesn’t sound good,” Garak said finally. If he was getting soft, or he was being manipulated, then fuck it. It wasn’t as if this were a life-and-death situation. Those days were behind him. 

Julian hummed. “I think it does.” 

Garak scoffed. “Then clearly, dear, you have not tried it against our two surnames. Everett Bashir-Garak sounds ridiculous.” 

For some reason, out of all of the arguments that Garak had used—out of all of the ones he could have later invented—that one got to Julian. Garak could hear the doctor whispering the name to himself—once, twice, then three times—before he started to laugh. Garak felt the laughter before he heard it, as Julian started shaking in amusement, and then the sound bubbled up and Garak allowed himself a small smile. There were very few sounds he enjoyed more than that one. 

“It does kind of have a ‘kick me’ quality to it, doesn’t it? As if hyphenating our names wasn’t enough—we have to go and give our child a name that hasn’t been popular since maybe the twentieth or twenty-first century!” 

Garak would never pass up an opportunity to disagree with Julian, especially now that his husband was in a better mood. “Oh well, if it is uncommon…I suppose it isn’t a terrible choice…” 

Julian sat up on his knees, laughing, “Oh no! Absolutely not! It is a simply awful name! We must choose something else!” 

Garak threw up his hands, “Well, what do you suggest, then?” he asked, loudly. He expected Julian to pull some equally obnoxious name out of thin-air, or perhaps sarcastically suggest naming the boy after someone entirely random—like Quark. He didn’t expect Julian to settle on his haunches and stare at him with a surprisingly serious expression and whisper an entirely unthought-of response. 

“Why don’t you name him?”

“What?” 

If the both of them were entirely honest, they hadn’t even considered that idea until that moment. It had been Julian to bring up the idea of having a child in the first place, and Julian’s idea to use technology similar to that of a Borg maturation chamber to create such a child. The idea of a family, while a pleasant thought for Garak, was mostly Julian’s.   
“Why should I do it?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as put-out as it sounded, but if Julian noticed, he didn’t care. 

“Because,” he said simply, as if explaining something to a small child, “You’re one of his parents—as you said earlier. You’re going to help raise him. And anyway, you haven’t really had much of a say in anything; I’ve kind of taken over this whole thing, so…you should name him.” 

Garak paused. He was rarely given tasks this important. Even as a Minister in the new Cardassian government, his tasks never seemed as important as this. Nothing, actually, seemed as important, as significant, as this. He knew exactly what needed to happen next, and he had little time to waste. 

“Where are you going?” Julian asked, as Garak rose from his place on the sofa and went to fetch his coat. Garak turned back to face him. 

“To find a PADD, dear,” he stated firmly. “I have names to research.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI, I figured that whenever this took place Cardassia would be up-and-running enough to have PADDs etc. readily available in public places/for higher-ups in the government, but not enough of them for Garak to have one in his house for personal use. They're still recovering from the number the Dominion did on them. Hence, the ending scene.


End file.
